


Semper ad Latus Tuum

by starlitpurple



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt Noctis Lucis Caelum, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, POV Prompto Argentum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 23:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18766414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlitpurple/pseuds/starlitpurple
Summary: When Noctis wakes to a debilitating old injury rearing its ugly head, Prompto realizes very quickly how much he doesn’t know about his best friend. It doesn’t help that he feels completely useless on top of everything.





	Semper ad Latus Tuum

**Author's Note:**

> I want to send a huge thanks to [notthelasttime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthelasttime/pseuds/notthelasttime) for looking over this behemoth of a oneshot for me, and also give a nod to [audreyskdramablog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreyskdramablog/pseuds/audreyskdramablog), whose own story was a largely the inspiration for this. They're both absolutely lovely! Go check them out! <3

There are times when Noctis is so stubborn and lazy about getting up that even Prompto finds himself rolling his eyes in disbelief. Times when all they did the day before was drive and clean up a few random unlucky scourge beasts. Times when he's probably not as tired as he makes himself out to be.

Today is not one of those days.

Three evenings prior, they’d run into the thing that messed up Noctis when he was a child. That day was more than trying for all involved and no one complained when he slept in the next morning.

Two days prior, Noctis suggested they go looking for the next royal arm in a place called Costlemark. They'd grabbed a few hunts for the area around the place beforehand, intending to knock them out after they’d gotten the weapon, but then it turned out that the Costlemark ruins were no joke. They ended up having to wait for nightfall to even be able to go in, and then the place was so challenging that Prompto found himself thinking more than once that this would be their last dungeon to explore.

They didn't pull themselves from its depths until yesterday evening. The sun's last rays sinking below the horizon when they finally emerged, battered and exhausted, but mostly in one piece. They'd barely gotten the camp gear up and a proper meal in them in the nearby haven before they all collapsed.

Now, Ignis and Gladio are already up and about. Prompto can hear them puttering around the campsite outside as he dresses and pushes his fingers through his hair to smooth it back into the best representation of its usual style. It’s definitely not the greatest, but he’ll gel it later when he has the Regalia’s mirrors to aid him so it stays better. He picks up his phone to check the time--it's gotta be like 10 o'clock by how warm it is in the tent already.

The screen reads 9:02 when he lights it up.

It's still a bit early to be fussing over Noctis. (Though he knows that Ignis probably would have liked to have left three hours ago when the sun came up.) So he decides to go find out what Ignis has cooked up for breakfast in lieu of waking his best friend. They have some possible hunts planned for the day, but after the past few days, Prompto's pretty sure they will be alright with a late start on that. They've already got plans to stay another night, just in case their evening bounty is too tough or hard to find.

"Perhaps we should have done the hunts first." That’s Ignis's voice filtering softly into the tent and Prompto perks an ear as he stuffs his nightshirt back in his bag.

Gladio lets out a soft grunt, and then another, and then says, "Yeah. I slept like ten hours, but I still feel wiped."

When Prompto exits the tent, he sees Gladio finishing off a push-up and walking himself into a seated position on the rock surface. Ignis is leaning against the camp stove, a cup of steaming coffee in hand.

"Morning," he says, lifting his free hand in a small wave as he catches Prompto's eye. "Sleep well?"

Prompto is taken over in that moment by a yawn that's so intense that he makes himself stretch his arms over his head with it. "Well enough, at least."

Ignis hands him a plate of eggs and potatoes and what looks like a small Anak steak and he plops himself into one of the chairs by the now nearly burnt out campfire. It's just embers now and Prompto finds himself mesmerized by the glow of one of the coals for a long moment before he remembers the plate in his hand and tucks into his meal. He takes his time and when he finally pulls himself from the chair again, a glance at his phone tells him an hour has passed already.

He catches Ignis's eye as he hands over his plate. There's still one plate made up there on the stove behind him. It's probably beyond cold by now. He says, "I'll get him," and turns back toward the tent. There's something there, set in the advisor's expression, but he doesn't put much mind to it before he ducks back in under the tent flap to rouse his friend.

"Hey buddy," he starts but halts when he realizes that Noctis's already awake. "Oh, I was just about to come drag you out. Iggy looks about ready to toss your breakfast right along with the trash if you're not up soon."

He expects Noctis to roll his eyes and make some grumpy comment about Ignis while he turns over and feigns going back to sleep. He expects him to shove him away when he reaches a hand out to him. He doesn't expect it when he takes his hand--when he really tries to pull himself half into a sitting position with a pained whine in the back of his throat. He doesn't expect it when Noctis's face scrunches up in near agony as he lets go and gingerly lays back in the position he was in.

Prompto stares at him in confusion and worry as he watches Noctis pant through the last of whatever sharp pain went through him with the motion. "Wha--" He lets him catch his breath as he gathers his thoughts. The last two days had sucked, but he hadn't noticed Noctis being this bad off before they'd crashed for the night. They'd all had some nasty scrapes and close calls, but they were healed away quickly with their dwindling potions. Noctis himself had been thrown hard into the wall more than once, but a potion later and he was scrambling right back into the fray, seeming none the worse for wear.

When Noctis lets out a soft groan again, Prompto calls an elixir into his hand and presses it into his. "Here," he says softly. "Take this."

But he doesn't. Instead, he clenches his hand around the flask and banishes it back into the ether in a soft glow of sparkles as he shakes his head solemnly. "That won't work, Prom," he says around clenched teeth. Prompto's just about ready to yell at him that he could at least _try_ when he gasps out on a whisper, "Get Gladio...Iggy."

He can see the tears collecting at the corners of his eyes as he nods and pushes himself to his feet wordlessly. When he ducks back through the tent flaps though, Gladio isn't there. Ignis is leaning against the camp stove looking content drinking what is probably at least his third cup of coffee this morning. His eyes drift up as Prompto steps out and the look on his face must give something away. He sets his cup down with a frown and asks, "What is it?"

"I don't know," Prompto says with a shake of his head and what he knows is worry creasing his brow. "Noct--he can't move. Said a potion wouldn't help and to come get you guys."

Ignis is straightening before he's even finished speaking. He turns to look over his shoulder and then lets out a small sigh of frustration. "We'll need Gladio," he said as he hurries toward the tent. "Fetch him for me, please?"

He quickly nods and starts across the haven. Then he stops and casts his eyes all around it in every direction. Gladio likes to go on runs on mornings when Noctis is dragging his feet or he's just up early enough. Prompto's really hoping that he hasn't decided to go far this time.

It doesn't take him long to find him, thankfully. He comes walking out of the woods a moment later, and Prompto realizes he must have just taken off for a bathroom break. He cocks an eyebrow in question when he trots over to him, that same serious look overtaking his features as it had Ignis's when he tells him.

Gladio seems to understand immediately, though, and jogs the rest of the small distance to the glowing stone of the haven. When he enters the tent, Prompto's right there on his heels. But the sight that catches his eyes makes him pause just inside the doorway.

Ignis is trying to help ease Noctis into a better position. It must be a painful process because there are tear tracks down his face and he’s holding Iggy's hand in a shaking vice-like grip.

It takes Gladio only a moment to gauge the situation before he sets a hand on Ignis's arm. "Get on the other side."

Ignis nods without a word and coaxes Noctis to relinquish his grip on him. "Prompto," he says over his shoulder. He doesn't have to go on. Prompto nods vigorously and kneels down by Noctis's head, hoping he's out of the way. He slips his hand into the one that Ignis has just pried out of his own grip and doesn't flinch when it clamps down tight. He doesn't entirely know what's going on with his best friend, but Gladio and Ignis seem to understand, so he just tries his best to stay out of their way.

"It's been a while," Gladio says as he scoots up beside him. "Thought you'd grown out of this." There's no hint of mockery or judgment in his voice.

"Guess not," Noctis hisses through gritted teeth. His voice is barely there, breathless with what must be unimaginable pain. Prompto's never seen him like this. He's seen him injured and hurting a lot--it happens so often to them these days that it's not even that much of a shock anymore when one of them takes what could have been a mortal blow. And they've definitely had their share of close calls.

But this, this is different. This isn't some fresh new injury that they can just smooth away with a potion and forget about. This...this is a long term injury that runs deep. Distantly he thinks about the barely there limp that Noctis still walks with and not for the first time, he wonders just how much he went through after that Marilith attack.

They were still in grade school when it happened. And while Prompto had known _who_ he was, that had been before he'd cared for Tiny or gotten the letter from Luna that had given him the push he hadn't known he needed to befriend him. Everyone noticed when he didn't come back to school for over a month, and though the teacher discouraged his class from talking about it, word had still gotten around about the incident. No one knew the exact details, but it was clear that the Crown Prince had been severely injured while on an outing. Prompto remembered wondering if the boy would turn up in class again.

A long whine and a tightened grip on his fingers bring him back to the present and he realizes that Gladio and Ignis have him straightened out on his side now. Gladio is gingerly running a hand along his back, feeling for something. Prompto can tell when he finds it because Noctis's whole body seizes up and shudders with it.

It takes Ignis saying, "Deep breaths, Noct," for him to realize that Noctis is holding his breath. Ignis catches his eye as he rubs a thumb into the king's shoulder and Prompto coaxes him on.

"Come on, Noct," he says, giving the hand still clenched around his own a gentle squeeze. "You heard Iggy. Deep breath in..." He pauses to wait for him to comply. When it doesn't, he tries again. "Come on, slow and deep. You got this."

It takes a moment, and when he gasps in his next breath it comes out on a half sob. It sounds so pitiful and pained he can see even Gladio squeezing his eyes shut for a second. By some unspoken decision, the two of them have paused in whatever they were doing, more focused on letting him catch his breath before going further.

Prompto is studying their faces now as he continues talking softly to Noctis, telling him when to breathe. His hand is nearly vibrating with the full body shakes running through him every few minutes where it rests against his own. When he's gotten control enough of his breathing that Prompto feels he doesn't need to coach him anymore, he lets his eyes drift up to Gladio and Ignis and asks softly, "What happened?"

"The Marilith happened," Gladio replies, fist clenched at his side and looking away from them like it explains everything. And, in a way, it does, Prompto thinks, although it doesn’t exactly explain what's going on with his friend _now_.

He looks at Ignis, and he must see something in his gaze because he quietly lifts one hand to push up his glasses and then starts to explain. "In the early days, when Noctis was recovering, sometimes his injury would flare up like this, effectively disabling him from moving his legs."

Prompto's eyes widen as his gaze settles back down toward Noctis's lower half. "So," he hears himself whispering, "you're saying he's paralyzed right now?"

Ignis's expression turns grim with sadness and sympathy as he focuses on his hands, still rubbing soothing circles into Noctis's shoulders. "It’s more akin to a tingling sensation or numbness, accompanied by severe pain that radiates from the old wound," he confirms. "Gladio and I were trained how to help him, should it ever happen while he was in our care." He shoots a glance at Gladio and sighs. "Though I daresay we're going to have to find a hotel for the next few nights."

"That'll be the rest of our Gil," Noctis protests softly, his breath nearly evened out now. "S'gonna set us back."

Prompto squeezes his hand as he casts his gaze back down at him. "We need a night with actual beds and showers after that place anyway. And we have things we can sell to get by. We can just double down on hunts when you're feeling better."

"You know how this works better than anyone,” Gladio says. “We'll get ya fixed up, Princess. Just leave the details to us." Gladio waits for a beat after he finishes, then says, "Ya ready?"

Noctis must know what he means though because he lets out a soft sigh and squeezes his eyes shut. A moment later, they're open and back on Gladio, and his fingers flex around Prompto's hand as he nods.

"I know it’s been a while, Noct, but please try to control your breathing," Ignis says as he shifts back into position behind him.

"Yeah," Noctis says soft and serious. "Sorry, Specs. I'll try."

And that was...weird. Noctis didn't usually apologize when Ignis nagged him for something. In fact, it was usually the opposite: some snappish retort as he obediently followed Ignis's suggestion to the letter. What kind of hell must he be in now to make him so tame to Ignis’s prodding?

Ignis catches Prompto's eye once more when he and Gladio are in place and Prompto nods minutely before turning his full attention back to his best friend. "Okay, Noct," he says squeezing his hand. "Just keep your eyes on me and follow my breathing."

That plan goes...about as well as getting a Chocobo to fly. Gladio and Ignis begin to very slowly and very carefully turn him onto his stomach while supporting his back. Noctis seizes up almost immediately when his back spasms, breath hitching with it, and Prompto goes back to coaching him through each breath. "That's it. You've got this, buddy. You're doing good. Just keep it up," he says like a mantra.

Noctis mostly keeps up with him. His eyes are laser-focused on his, even scrunched up in the midst of the hell he's going through. They never close all the way, and his breathing, while irregular, is much more stable than it was before.

Once Ignis and Gladio have turned him over, they give him another moment to catch his breath again. He's mostly got control now, so it's not quite as long. Then, in one swift movement Gladio throws a leg over Noctis and straddles him while Ignis moves around Noctis's head. Prompto shifts down a bit too, and when he settles, he sees that Ignis's hands are set against Noctis's shoulders now, as if ready to brace him down.

After a moment, Gladio says, "Ignis," very pointedly.

Prompto has no idea what he wants, but Ignis clearly does. He looks down at Noctis as his hands smooth out against his upper back soothingly. "Come on, Noct,” he says, calm yet firm. “You've got to fully relax for this."

It takes several breaths, but Prompto still blinks in surprise when the hand in his own goes slack. It's as if Ignis poked a sizeable balloon and let all the air out of it. It takes a moment longer for the muscles that Ignis is rubbing to lose their tension, but when they finally do, it's almost like Noctis is sleeping. ...If not for the half-pained look on his face, anyway.

"Almost there, Princess," Gladio says gently as he leans forward on his knees. Noctis's shirt creases and wrinkles up as he eases it as far up as it will go, somehow without touching or tugging too much, and Noctis remains lax in their hands.

A quick glance reveals that he's closed his eyes. Whatever they’re doing must help in some way because the harsh look that had been residing on his features has mostly been smoothed away with it. He looks...calm. Or as close to it as one can get with their back spasming like that.

Gladio very gently lays his hands on either side of Noctis's spine. Prompto sees him look up and distantly he's aware of how Ignis responds. At some point, he’d stopped rubbing. His hands are back in place over Noctis's shoulders and he's bent forward, bracing himself. There's a quick nod and then Gladio is looking down at his hands again.

"Okay, Noct," Ignis pipes up. "Deep breath in--" He waits. It takes a moment, but Noctis finally, slowly does as Ignis asks, his back shifting upwards slightly with his expanding ribcage. "And let it out slow," Ignis finishes. He does and Ignis has him breathe in once more.

On the exhale this time, several things happen at once. Gladio shifts and then presses down on Noctis's back. Ignis's hands tighten and batten down as Noctis jerks almost violently with the action. Whatever air that was left in his lungs stutters out of him and his next breath comes out a loud shout as he shudders and shakes through the wave of pain that wracks through him.

It's over almost as quick as it started, and whatever they did must have worked? Not even a moment later, Gladio has climbed off of him and is poking at the bottom of his foot with a small twig they'd tracked into the tent. Noctis's leg tenses as it shifts in his grip. It seems to be enough to satisfy him and he sets his foot back against the tarp.

Ignis has gone back to rubbing his shoulders gently, speaking softly to calm him. Prompto can barely hear him, but he knows he saying some of the same things he had been earlier when he tried to help distract him.

He becomes aware that he's still got Noctis's hand in his when the nearly stable fingers give him a gentle squeeze. He lifts his eyes and realizes that Noctis is focused on him once more. He gives him a lopsided smile and says, "Sorry. About...all this. You okay?"

"I feel like I should be asking you that," he says offhand. Noctis seems to have calmed down considerably though, even if his breathing is still a bit elevated, and Prompto finds himself nodding in response to his question. "I'm good. Just scared me is all."

Noctis's eyes flutter back closed after that, caving to the gentle prodding Ignis is doing to his shoulders. Gladio has one of Noctis's legs pulled into his lap and is massaging the muscle just like Ignis is doing with Noctis's shoulders.

Suddenly Prompto feels useless once more. He's stuck between deciding whether to ask for a way to help or just leaving the matter to Ignis and Gladio and waiting outside for them to finish. Ignis must see it on his face. Before he's even organized his thoughts enough to decide what to do, Ignis says, "Massaging the muscle helps with the blood flow."

It takes Prompto a moment before he notices Ignis gesturing to Noctis's other leg as if to say, _if you'd like something to do._ Noctis doesn't even stir as he scoots down by his feet and gently shifts his other leg toward him. He doesn't really know the proper way to massage a calf muscle. But he knows Gladio knows, and so he pauses a moment to watch the smooth motions of his deft fingers as they work, pressing in as he moves slowly downward and then back up. He does his best to mimic the motions and thinks he mostly does it right. Or good enough for Gladio, anyway, who slowed down considerably to watch him and then gave a small grunt in approval before going back to work.

By the time they've finished, Noctis is drawing in the deep breaths of sleep once more. Though how he could manage that with three sets of hands on him and shifting him around while giving him a massage--which he'd always despised in Prompto's experience, he didn't know.

Gladio doesn't seem surprised though if his chuckle is anything to go by. "Never fails," he says softly.

"Indeed," Ignis replies, eyes fond as he gazes down upon his charge. "For all the fuss he makes over getting a massage, this always seems to be the end result when he's too put out to complain."

That draws his mouth up into a small smile. "I wondered about that. He always told me he hated massages."

"For everything your run-of-the-mill back massage usually is, he does," Gladio says. "A normal massage on Noctis does more harm than good. He does like massages, just not the conventional way."

"Not that you'd get him to admit to it," Ignis added on with a fond wink.

They let him sleep while Ignis and Gladio get their things packed up and ready to go. Prompto opts for watching over Noctis while packing up what little they have spread out in the tent without disturbing his friend. Once they have everything but the tent and the sleeping bag Noctis is splayed out on, Gladio crawls in and gently shakes a shoulder to wake their charge. "Come on, Princess. You can't sleep like that for long or you'll get stiff. We need to do some stretches before we go."

Noctis lets out a low groan before he slowly (very slowly) eases himself onto his side and then pushes himself into a sitting position. Gladio watches him through the whole ordeal, hand half outstretched just in case he needs it. He doesn't, but his face remains scrunched up the whole time like he's expecting more spasms.

Standing is an entirely different ordeal. Even Prompto can't stand at full height at the tent's apex, which means that Noctis has to stand half hunched over and that...doesn't work out too well. Gladio grabs him when he gets too overwhelmed and starts to sink back to the ground. Instead of lowering him back down, though, he tugs him gently and carefully out of the tent.

"Don't roll that up yet," he says distantly over his shoulder to Prompto. "Bring it out here."

Prompto doesn't need telling twice. He scoops the sleeping bag up in his arms, doubling it over as he steps out behind them.

Gladio is supporting Noctis now, one arm bracing his shoulders, the other gripping his arm. Noctis is still bent half over as if straightening out would take some monumental effort--and maybe it would? Prompto really doesn't know how bad this can get. _It’s pretty damned bad so far_ , he thinks. He’s hoping there isn’t a ‘worse’.

Gladio shifts the arm from around his shoulders to place a hand against the small of Noctis's back. Prompto can see Noctis tense up, but Gladio says something low and gentle and then puts his other hand at his shoulder and slowly presses until Noctis is standing at his full height.

Prompto can't see his face from this angle, but the elevated breathing and tension running through his shoulders are proof enough of the effect it's having on their charge.

He's so focused on what's going on in front of him that he doesn't even notice when Ignis comes up beside him. "Perhaps you could lay that out for them and help me with the tent?"

It takes him a moment to realize that Ignis means the sleeping bag still balled up in his arms, and he hastens to do just that. He ends up laying it back out where their chairs were--next to the one Gladio and Ignis have left out, probably in case Noctis has need of it.

Disassembling the tent takes up more of his attention than he realizes. He'd wanted to see, to observe everything that Gladio was doing for his best friend, so that if it were to ever happen again--which by the sound of it, it definitely _could_ \--he wouldn't be quite as useless.

The mundane task of taking the tent down is something he usually helps Gladio with, packing it away when they finally drag Noctis out of it and are ready to move on. Much as he tries to keep an eye on what the other two are doing, he only ends up catching glimpses of it. Gladio moving and pulling him into a proper posture. Sitting him down on the sleeping bag. Helping to bend him forward into what was normally a simple stretch for the King, now accompanied by a pained grunt and a twisted expression.

Ignis picks up on his unease--of course, he does--and when Prompto hands him the last of the poles to slide into the storage bag, he sees the sympathy there in his eyes. Instead of saying anything though, he places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes gently. "He will be alright. He'll just need a lot of rest and stretching for a few days."

If Ignis knew that that wasn't the heart of the issue for Prompto, he cleverly wasn't pointing it out.

Ignis probably _did_ know what was getting at him, could probably spell it back to him in a much clearer way. Not that he needed it. Things were pretty clear without any outside input. His friend was hurt in a way he didn't know he could hurt anymore and he had no idea how to help him. Well, he has some idea now from simple observation, but still.

He hates feeling so helpless.

They opt to cart the tent and the spare chair--which Gladio decided wouldn't be needed as he helped Noctis onto his side and into another long stretch--to the Regalia, and Prompto catches himself thinking about how uncomfortable the ride will likely be for Noctis. Ignis must see the thought on his face, because he frowns and raises a hand to push up his glasses as he says, "We're closer to the Galdin than Lestallum. Cape Caem would be the best option, but the trek up to the house and the stairs wouldn't do well for him." He lets out a sigh and pulls his hand away, then turns to watch Gladio help Noctis to his feet and start them on their slow journey toward the car. "Still. It's longer than I would prefer to have him in the car."

"Maybe we could stop along the way?" Prompto offers. "Gladio could get him out to stretch a bit. That would help right?" He's asking the question before he's even finished the thought, but Ignis nods all the same.

"A capital idea," he responds.

Gladio and Noctis are closer now. With every step, the effort it takes just to put one foot in front of the other is written out all over Noctis's face. He's leaning into Gladio's side, letting out panted breaths every couple of steps, but he keeps moving. Gladio, for all that he's usually the one that pushes Noctis to do things (both literally and figuratively), is still speaking softly and urging him to keep going. It's a different side of the hulking, usually blunt, guy, and it’s rare to see him like this. This whole day he's been something more tender and caring. It’s just plain _weird._ It's like their group suddenly sprouted another Ignis but didn't have enough room for a fifth so they stuck him inside Gladio.

He and Ignis meet them when they near the car, and Prompto immediately takes the sleeping bag slung over Gladio's free arm. Ignis stands by, ready to help Noctis into the back seat if necessary, but Gladio gets him in without much trouble. Prompto barely glimpses the look they share once Noctis is in the car, but it's one tinged with worry and held up by duty.

It doesn't take him long to roll up the sleeping bag. It's not the best rolling he's ever done, but Gladio can just yell at him the next time they drag out the camping gear. By the sound of it, they won't be camping much for the next little stretch anyway.

It’s a nice thought, though, having a bed to sleep in and a shower at the ready for the next few days... But then again, they'd finally collected a comfortable amount of Gil to get by on. It'd been a while since they'd stayed in a hotel, and though they'd planned on one night once they got back to civilization, much more than that was going to put them low on funds. They had some bounties to turn in yet, and they could sell some of the things they got from Costlemark, but this was definitely going to set them back. There would be lots more hunts in their future if they were going to maintain that same comfortable buffer that they had now.

Noctis had been right about that, but for all that he’d pointed it out, he wasn't complaining otherwise. Prompto looked over his shoulder as he climbed into the front seat. Noctis was sitting unmoving, his eyes closed and his head tipped back against the leather that must be warm from the sun. A frown creases his brow when Ignis shuts his door, and Prompto takes care to shut his as gently as he can manage, so he doesn't jostle him too much.

"You good, buddy?" he says over his shoulder as Ignis starts the car and pulls out onto the road.

Noctis's eyes open to slits as he looks at him. It takes a moment, but then he says, "Yeah, I'll make it."

It's barely loud enough to make out over the wind blowing past them, but Prompto gives him a small smile for his efforts anyway.

~*~*~

The drive is mostly uneventful. Along the way, they coax Noctis to eat a sandwich that Ignis must have made up while he and Gladio were packing their things. And true to his word, they stop a couple of times along the way. Noctis only whines a little about being dragged out to stretch, but it's mostly his usual crankiness from being woken up. The pain he's in is made all the more obvious when it takes him several minutes just to push himself to his feet unaided. Gladio is there, like the perfect crutch, every time they stop and gets him through a modified regimen of stretches before they set out on their way again.

By the time they're turning onto the curvy road that leads down to the ocean, Noctis has let personal space go by the wayside. He's stretched out in the back seat, lying half across Gladio in a way that's kind of adorable, if not very like him. Gladio, for all that he would usually grouse and grumble with false bravado about that sort of thing, has a hand set on his charge's shoulder while he thumbs another page in his book like it's perfectly normal.

He catches Prompto's eyes on him and drops his book down as he lifts a brow in question. And this, this isn't something he can let himself pass up. Before he gives it much thought, he whips out his camera, snaps a couple of shots, then leans into the frame and takes a selfie.

Gladio gives him a half chuckle and says, "Noctis is gonna kill you later."

He shrugs as he sets his camera back down in the seat beside him. "Wouldn't be the first time he’s grumped at me over a picture. I'm sure it won't be the last."

"You looked like you were thinking about something," he says idly as they go under the first landbridge. The shadow blankets his vision and for a moment, he only sees their silhouettes. The calm but silent air at his side him tells him that Ignis has noticed, too.

Oh. That.

"You could tell, huh?" he says, half nervous for no apparent reason. These are his closest friends, why does it have to be weird? He doesn't wait for an answer or the knowing look that he can feel Ignis giving him. "It's just--" he starts, then pauses waving his hands in the air while he tries to get the words out. "You guys aren't-- _you_ aren't usually like this, with him. I just...don't know what to make of it."

He doesn't say how much it scares him how serious they're taking this, or even more than that, how helpless he feels. Ignis picks up on it anyway.

"You needn't worry yourself, Prompto. While his old injury is one that we take very seriously, it is not life-threatening. It has caused Noctis more than his fair share of suffering, though, and his back could be upset more if we were to continue on without taking the time to mend it."

But...it was unmendable, right? That was why they were currently driving to one of the most expensive hotels to stay several days in. To give Noctis some time to recover as he stretches out the upset nerves in his back until he feels as close to normal is he'll ever be. He files away the question that rises in the back of his mind to ask Noctis later. Is it always hurting, just not as intense? Or did it just flare up like this when he slept/fought/moved wrong? Was that the reason for his slight limp? Was it a pain that ran through him with every step or was it just lasting damage left over from the old injury?

Okay, so he has like twenty-six questions, but he could mostly summarize it up into one. One that he would ask much later when Noctis was back to normal and wise-cracking with the rest of them again. Not the broken-looking husk of his friend curled into Gladio's side in the back seat.

The downside of choosing to come to Galdin was how far they had to walk to make it to the resort. Noctis's pride wouldn't let Gladio carry him, so the three of them trudged along behind their charge, letting him set the pace. Each step was taking a toll on him though, and where he wouldn't let Gladio be his crutch, he didn't say a word when Prompto--finally over watching him struggle, ducked a head under his arm and pulled it gently around his shoulders. He could see the indecision in his eyes, but his shoulders lost a little of the tension there and he felt Noctis lean into him as he took his next step.

Their pace slowed when they got to the dining area of the docks. The resort was busy today, and Prompto couldn't help the internal grimace every time a new set of eyes landed on them. Noctis had always been self-conscious about his weakness, it had to be chafing him pretty bad right now.

...Maybe Cape Caem really would have been the better choice. Except the walk was probably just as long, and that was without mentioning all the steps. But at least they would have been out of the eyes of the public. At least Noctis probably would have let Gladio carry him. At least they'd still have most of their Gil.

He’s roused from his thoughts as their group comes to a stop and Ignis starts talking to the concierge about a room. Noctis shifts subtly away from him and Prompto lets him go as he straightens on his own.

A quarter of their Gil later, they’re keying themselves into the farthest room set out over the water. The view is, of course, as breathtaking as always, and a part of Prompto is looking forward to the amazing shots he can get just from their room without ever having to leave it. He does his best to quash it down, however, when Noctis lets out a low grunt as he gingerly lowers himself to sit on one of the beds. Right. This isn't a vacation. He shouldn't lose sight of why they're here.

Gladio is at his side in minutes, tugging him back to his feet and gently reprimanding him about needing to go through the full proper course of stretches before he gets too comfy. It takes only a little grumping and groaning before he's guiding Noctis into a low stretch, bending forward until he can't stand to go any further. He really can't go as far as usual. For all that Noctis plays the lazy card (and he pulls it a lot), he's super flexible. Seeing him only able to go about half the way into a stretch that usually comes as natural to him as breathing is...well, it's disheartening to watch.

They work on stretches for a good forty-five minutes before Noctis finally calls an end to the session.

"Come on," he huffs, a little breathless and tinged with pain and exertion. "It's not gon'a work out in a day."

Belatedly, Prompto realizes it's Ignis's approval he's seeking because they both turn their gazes to the chair Ignis has perched himself in as he observed them over the daily paper--now lying forgotten in his lap. He gives a conceding nod, then throws a stern look in Noctis's direction. "Let Gladio help you. You know the risks of getting too careless."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumps back without any ire. And apparently, he must really be fully aware of whatever risks Ignis was referring to, because he waits for Gladio to stand and reach back down to him before he even makes an attempt to get up off the floor. They move much slower than Prompto can tell Noctis wants to, but he doesn't fuss about it. He moves when Gladio moves him, and when they've made it the five steps to the bed, it's Gladio that stops him from all-out flopping nose down into the sheets.

"Easy," he chides, turning him instead so that he can sit on the edge of the bed. "You know you can't lay like that."

Noctis sighs but doesn't argue.

"Which way?" Gladio asks.

Noctis takes a moment to think about it, then says, "Side, I guess."

Ignis is there, then, pulling the sheets back. He grabs a pillow and slots it between Noctis's knees as Gladio helps him get situated. They're being so careful with him that if Prompto didn't know any better, he'd think he might break. For all that the humiliation alone has to be grating their charge in the worst of ways, Noctis doesn't say a word, merely lets them maneuver him into a curled position on his side and tuck him in like a child. His eyes are sliding closed before they've even stepped away and Prompto wonders again just how bad it must be for him.

Ignis tells him later that there are certain positions that Noctis has to lay in when his back gives him trouble. None of which include one of his favorites: lying on his stomach. That is, according to Ignis, one of the worst possible positions to lay in. (“He could do it,” Ignis explained when Prompto asked, “but he refuses to use a pillow under his hips to straighten out his back.”)

Noctis sleeps well into the evening. Prompto tries to busy himself with other things to keep his mind from worrying. He even finds time to take apart and clean his favorite gun. The sun is on the horizon when Noctis hauls in a waking breath and raises his arms over his head to stretch before his breath hitches and he aborts the motion altogether. He does his best to cover up the slip as his eyes trail over to Prompto and then Gladio, who's already very clearly eyeing him over his book.

"Where's Specs?" he says.

"Gone to get dinner," Gladio supplies, bookmarking his place and setting the book down.

Noctis shifts and then the sheets are being pushed back. Gladio is on his feet in seconds, stepping in to help him up, but Noctis seems to manage it without needing him. The extra care he's showing when he slides his legs down to the floor, pausing briefly to pluck the pillow from between his knees, is a testament to how much of a toll his old injury is taking on him. He keeps his back straight as he pushes himself up and when he's completely vertical (in every way but standing), there's a half grimace accompanying the movement. He takes a breath and it's gone, an almost normal expression taking its place.

"What time is it?" he asks squinting out the window toward the horizon. The sky is turning a gorgeous shade of orange, the slight wisps of clouds already tinting pink along the edges.

"It's after 6," Prompto responds, even though Noctis can probably deduce the time by the view streaming in. "You were out for like 4 hours, dude."

If Prompto thought he was going to react to that, he was mistaken. Noctis merely yawns, looking almost more tired than he was before he slept and nods toward the window once more. "You should get a few shots."

For a second, he's completely confused. His thoughts have been everywhere today, so much so that he's hardly touched his camera. It surprises him so much that he's whipping it out with a flourish almost immediately, as if Noctis's permission was all he needed. And hey, if it was a bit of false bravado, who could blame him? It seemed they all could use a bit of cheering up.

He takes all of the 15 minutes it takes for the sky to go from oranges and pinks to purples and grays in front of the windows of their suite. They've been down to the Galdin a good handful of times now, and he can't remember any of those sunsets (or sunrises, the couple of times he's caught them) being this beautiful. He even has a shot somewhere of Noctis out on the docks looking out toward Angelgard. The sun was setting that day as well, and it was dark enough that Noctis is almost a full-on silhouette in front of the darkening sky.

He turns away from nature's spectacle when Ignis keys himself back into the room. There are two bags in his hands that he carefully sets on the table before he's turning to offer Noctis a smile. "Glad to see you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"Good enough to eat," he says eying the bags as if staring will make them reveal their contents without him having to get up and root through them. "What'd you get? It smells amazing."

It does smell amazing. Prompto's stomach rumbles as he draws in a breath.

"Grilled barramundi," Ignis replies. "I pulled some strings with Coctura, figured it would be to your liking for tonight."

He isn't wrong. Pretty much anything with barramundi in it is a supreme choice for Noctis. They all know it. He's almost surprised that Ignis bit the bullet of their expenses and got the pricey stuff. They rarely eat at the Mother of Pearl restaurant; the food’s amazing, but the prices are way over the top for something that Ignis could whip up himself without much effort (or a kick to their expenses).

Gladio is waiting when Noctis pushes himself to his feet, very slowly and carefully, and he puts a steadying hand to his back when he straightens. Prompto joins them as they reach the quaint little setup of cushy chairs around a low coffee table. Once they've all settled and Gladio has taken his own seat at Noctis's side, Ignis passes around the takeout boxes. While the boxes definitely don't scream gourmet, the wonderful smell and beautiful display that assaults Prompto’s senses when he opens it absolutely does. The contents have been jostled a bit from being handled, but the filet looks just as good as if it were on one of the Galdin's fancy plates.

"So," Noctis says about halfway into his meal. "We probably shouldn't stay here more than a day or two."

Ignis huffs a small sigh. "Noct--" he starts, but Noctis cuts him off.

"Look, I know what you're thinking Specs, but... But two days is going to be over half of our Gil, three will nearly put us back to square one." He pauses a moment, takes another bite, and then continues once he swallows. "You still need a new set of daggers, and Gladio's greatsword is looking pretty rough."

"Like it or not, Majesty, your health is of most importance. We can easily make that money back once you've recovered," he chastises with an annoyed flair that says it’s not up for much debate unless it’s turned into an order. "For now you need a comfortable place to rest and we need to be out of possible danger while you're effectively out of commission."

Noctis closed his eyes for a moment, frustration clear in his expression. "Then I don't need to point out, _Advisor_ , that we could have gone to Cape Caem for much less."

Yeah...that 'Majesty' jab had definitely gotten to him. In the time since they'd left Insomnia, Prompto had figured out that Ignis only pulled out the proper decorum and formalities when he was supremely annoyed with Noctis. This particular injury definitely seemed to fall under the rank of throwing all else to the wayside whether it set them behind or not.

"Cape Caem was much further a drive from our previous location," Ignis replied, not rising to Noctis's blatant jab at him. "While more convenient when it comes to Gil, it's a lot of walking and stairs for you."

"And also a comfy bed, and a full kitchen, and all of the privacy we need," he adds. "And I can use those stairs to help my back once I can stand up for long enough on my own."

He does have a point. Prompto waits as he chews his next bite. Ignis seems to be thinking it over as well because it takes him a moment before he huffs a sigh and replies. "We will stay here at the Galdin one additional night then, and hope that your back is well enough in two days that we can make the drive out to Caem if you find that that would be more suitable. It's quite a few hours to get there from here, though, we'll have to make several stops along the way."

"That's fine," Noctis grouses around another bite of food.

And that's that. Not much else is said while everyone finishes off their food and by the time Prompto stands and collects Noctis's empty container to toss with his own, Noctis is already flagging. He's got a faraway look in his eyes that Prompto can't bear to see, so he fishes his phone out of his pocket when he settles back into his chair and offers a cheery, "Wanna play some King's Knight?"

"He's got a full run of stretches to go through first," Gladio interrupts, passing off his own trash to Ignis when he stands and starts tidying up the area.

The serious look he throws in Noctis's direction brokers no argument, and though Noctis looks like he wants to say something, he merely puts on an obviously fake placating smile and says softly, "Yeah, that sounds fun. Maybe later, Prom."

And, wow, he hates this. It's almost a torment to watch his best friend at the lowest point he's ever seen him. And though he knows it's not a new thing, it still rankles that there's nothing he can do to help. So about ten minutes into their stretches, he stands, grabs his camera, and says, "I'm gonna go for a walk on the docks."

He pauses when Noctis stops to give him a concerned look that says he knows what he's doing, and Prompto answers it with a smile before he can say anything. "If you're up for it, we can play those rounds of King's Knight when I get back."

Some of the worry creasing his brows fades when a genuine smile slips through. "Yeah, sure," he says. "Stay safe out there. Don't make me have to drag myself out to save you."

"Wouldn't think of it," he chimes over his shoulder.

He can feel Ignis's eyes on him the moment he turns toward the door. It's so much that he pauses once more, hand on the door handle, and turns to look at him. Ignis doesn't say any of the things that he was expecting. Instead, he simply nods warmly and says, "Enjoy your walk, Prompto."

That's all the permission he needs. He turns the handle and then he's back into the hustle and bustle of the resort, still going strong despite the hour. He almost turns toward the large main dock. It's the closest to get to and has an amazing view, but he wants to get a little further away than that. Their room has the same view, and he doesn't really want the others spying on him, even if he doesn't actually want to go far.

So he turns and heads the opposite way. The restaurant has exchanged families for the older crowd brave enough to stay out at night. More than half of them are obvious couples out on dates, and a part of Prompto's mind wonders why they would risk the night just for a little frivolity.

"Probably for the same reason I am," Prompto answers softly to himself.

He lets out a long sigh and makes a path through the dining area and out onto the long dock that makes up the entrance.

The cat that Noctis likes is here again and he kneels and reaches out a hand, half surprised when the cat bumps its head against his fingers. Someone must have already fed it tonight because it seems overly content and friendly, already purring loudly as he pets it, and when he straightens back up with a soft, "Good kitty," it gives him the most adorable trilling meow he's ever heard. He smiles despite himself and raises his camera to snap a picture of it. If nothing else, it will get a smile out of Noctis when he shows him his camera roll later.

He's surprised to find some teens playing hacky-sack on down the dock. Their families must be staying at the resort for all that they're not concerned that the sky has gone dark. He passes them, taking a really cool action shot of the enjoyment on their faces, hacky-sack mid-bounce in the air between them.

He's stepping down onto the span of beach set between two docks, where the resort has tables set up for candlelight dinners when he realizes he's not alone. Surprisingly, no one is taking advantage of those tables, and the place seems to have cleared out of all of the day's beach-goers. He ignores the presence behind him as he changes the setting on his camera to night mode. It only takes him a moment to frame the moon and small cresting waves that signify the tide coming in, and he snaps off a couple of shots framing the moon in different places within them.

"Collecting some nature shots?" Ignis inquires near his shoulder. He hums thoughtfully and then says, "It is a beautiful evening. One wouldn't guess at the horrors of the darkness with this sort of sight to look upon every night."

Prompto smiles at the ocean. He has to agree, something about being out here, listening to nothing but the water crashing on the shore with only the beautiful view before him brings him a sense of calm he hasn't felt in a while. Ignis must sense it too, because he merely stands there with him, offering silent companionship.

After an indeterminable amount of time--it could have been only a minute or even twelve, Prompto really isn't sure--gloved fingers settle against his shoulder. It's not as jarring as it should be in the solace of the empty beach, more a gentle prodding to bring him back to the present. It serves its purpose and he turns with the touch to look into the green gaze boring into his own. The look he finds there is calculating but concerned and Ignis’s brow creases even more as he looks Prompto over.

"How are you doing?" he finally says, breaking the solitude between them.

Prompto sighs. It's not really a question he wants to answer. But it's Ignis, and he's not one to dance around what he really means, so he answers honestly.

"I just...feel so helpless," he says with a shrug, casting his gaze just past Ignis's shoulder. "I mean, no offense!" His eyes dart back to Ignis's and the man only nods for him to go on. "I just..." He sighs explosively once more and decides to just lob it all out of himself, feelings be damned. "It's another part of him that I never really knew about. _You_ know how sensitive he is about that injury! He’s always skirted around the topic, so I’ve always just gone with it. And like, I knew it was bad, but I didn't know that it could still hurt him, you know?" He sighs again, not giving Ignis time enough to answer before he continues on. "And, I'm not even mad at you guys--I'm really not! I'm glad that you and Gladio know what to do to help him. I just...hate that I can't do much."

He expects Ignis to be a little annoyed with him. Or, at the very least, put out about how selfish he's being. It's the last thing he's expecting when Ignis levels him with a look of understanding, accompanied by a comforting smile.

"In all honesty, this is more Gladio's department than my own. I can fuss over him all day, but it's Gladio who knows exactly how Noctis needs to move and stretch and how long he can manage those stretches without making it worse. I understand your feeling of helplessness, but I also understand why it bothers you so."

He waits for Prompto to frown up at him before he takes a deep breath and elaborates, seeming to take a moment to collect the words.

"In his youth, before the attack, Noct was..." he pauses a moment as if taken over by a memory. Then he smiles, fond. "He was a much different child. More bubbly, outgoing. After his injury," he continues, the smile falling from his features. "He became very withdrawn. The Marilith broke his spirit as much as it broke his body. It took him a long time to recover. That it only left him with a slight limp was something of a miracle.

"The flare-ups happened more often back then when Noctis would move wrong in training, or even just sometimes at random. It's the reason that Gladio and I were trained on how to help him if it ever happened in our care, but this is the first time it's occurred in years.

“And yes, it is no secret that Noctis hates talking about it. To this day he still feels it to be his one weakness, and in all honesty, he's right. While the Oracle was able to stay the curse of the scourge, it still remains in him enough that he will never be able to wield the full strength of the Crystal's power, and that bothers him."

Prompto scoffs loudly in silence left behind when Ignis stops speaking. "No matter how hard he tries, he won't be as strong as the Kings that reigned before him. What a load of crap," he says to no one in particular, jabbing the toe of his boot into the sand. "The guy puts more effort into being a decent fighter on the battlefield that he puts even the best hunters to shame. For all his faults, he tries harder than anyone."

That makes Ignis smile, and suddenly he can't help but add. "Aside from you guys, I mean. Sometimes I feel like Gladio thinks that if he's not working on his Shield skills 24/7, he'll bring forth the apocalypse."

"Of that," Ignis says. "You are not wrong. It took Gladio a long time to come around to his position as Noctis's protector. Let's just say that Noctis wasn't the only one who thought of himself as weak."

He stops and Prompto leans his head back and looks up at the stars. It's a clear night, and suddenly he longs for his nighttime camera equipment that he could capture shots of the starry sky with. But it's packed away, back in the house that's probably been reduced to rubble by now.

The stars have always made him think of Noctis. They'd once jokingly looked his name up during a late night gaming session. _Night sky_ , it had said. And technically when they'd worked out his full name, it was a reference to the moon, but Noctis was more nocturnal than the rest of them and he always did like the nighttime.

He draws himself out of his reverie when he feels inquiring eyes on him again, and when he looks, Ignis isn't staring at him, but looking out over the ocean. He feels like he should say something, especially after all the history that Ignis just dropped on him, but all he manages is, "It’s a really beautiful night."

Ignis lets that sit a moment then hums with a gentle smile. He says, "Gladio should be done with him by now. If that was a genuine offer, I'm sure he's looking forward to those rounds of King's Knight with you."

Prompto pauses and now he is staring at him. That was mostly something he'd offered as a distraction. He was fully expecting Noctis to want to sleep once they were done with all the stretches. "You think?" he says. It slips out before he can stop it and Ignis sets a hand on his shoulder as they both turn away from the ocean.

"I know you don't think you're helping as much as we are, Prompto, but you are the one person that Noctis has ever chosen for himself. You are his best friend. All you ever need to be is yourself. Your companionship helps him in ways that Gladio and I can’t."

He thinks about that all the way back to their suite. He's never thought of himself as meaning any more to Noctis than the two people he's known practically his whole life. He feels the same about Noctis, but it's not the same, is it? Noctis was his first and only friend...unless you count the time Luna sent him the letter. It was that message that gave him a purpose and he's more than grateful he didn't ignore it.

Just before Ignis keys them into the room, he stops and turns to him, his eyes holding a question that he's not saying aloud. _Will you be alright?_

Prompto gives him a half smile and nods. "I'm fine." He pauses and Ignis turns back to the door, and he can't just leave it like this. So he says, "Thanks, Iggy," and he's pretty sure it’s heard as they step into the room.

"Took you guys long enough," Noctis says as soon as the door shuts. He's laying sprawled on the bed in a way that even Prompto thinks he's not supposed to be, and when Gladio rejoins them from the bathroom, he shoots a glare in Noctis's direction. For all that he could argue and protest, he shifts into one of the positions that Prompto recognizes as one of the 'good' ones and pulls out his phone. "You still up for King's Knight?"

Prompto's face splits into a grin as he sits himself down on the bed beside him, and somehow it banishes all of the thoughts and helplessness he'd been feeling. And when he sees Noctis's eyes light up as they start their first run of the night, he realizes that maybe Ignis was right.

~*~*~

Two days pass quicker than expected, and while it hasn’t gotten worse, somehow Noctis seems to have plateaued. It's starting to really wear him down now, and when Ignis tries to argue them into staying another night just after breakfast and his morning stretches, Noctis quickly shuts him down.

"I'm not going to let this burn through all of our money," he finally says, interrupting Ignis mid-rant. "It's 10 Gil to fill up the tank. We can make it to Cape Caem in a day, and we have enough food stored in the Armiger that we won't need to keep buying this overpriced stuff."

That pulls a laugh from Gladio. "You just miss Iggy's cooking."

It looks like Noctis is about to give some kind of retort, but Prompto cuts across him and says, "Can you blame him? I mean, the resort's food is great and all, but Iggy's cooking is way better. And it's free!"

Ignis makes a little noise in the back of his throat. "I'll remind you of that the next time we run out of spices and rice."

"Yeah, but with as much meat as we pull in from the hunts, those spices and rice come out hella cheap. Well...compared to this gourmet stuff anyway," Prompto says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Alright," Ignis says with a clap of his hands that gets muffled by his gloves. His next words are clipped. "I guess I will go inform the concierge that we will be checking out. I assume that the three of you can finish packing up our things while I'm gone?"

He doesn't wait for them to reply before swiping up the room keys and turning on his heal.

They do, in fact, have all of the packing done by the time Ignis returns fifteen minutes later with a soft knock at the door. It wasn't like they'd brought much in with them other than a couple of changes of clothes. (Ignis had their other ones laundered during their stay, stating that they might as well as it was covered in the cost of the hotel. And hey, it really was convenient. Now they wouldn't be having to worry about it for another week or so, depending on how long they spent in each outfit.) Even Noctis helped with the packing, eager (Prompto is sure) to get out of the room.

As they step out into the morning atmosphere of the resort, Prompto thinks that maybe he was wrong about his friend. Noctis is walking straighter and steadier than he has been and turns down Gladio's offer of help as they make their way through the dining area. His confidence slips about halfway down the long boardwalk, and when he reaches out for Prompto's shoulder, Prompto doesn't hesitate to shift closer into his space and lend himself as a crutch. Gladio side-eyes them momentarily, then hefts the bag he's carrying over his shoulder and continues on.

They pack their things into the trunk of the Regalia in near silence. Ignis hasn't said much since this morning's debate, and even now it looks like his duty to the King is the only thing staying his tongue and keeping him from turning them around. He eyes Noctis for a long moment after Gladio slams the trunk. Noctis gives him about the most stubborn look Prompto's ever seen, and he finally relents, covering up his defeat of wills by tipping his head to adjust his glasses.

"We're stopping every ten miles," he says in a way that means it's non-negotiable. Prompto thinks that even if Noctis pulled the King card here, he'd be overruled. Noctis seems to get that too because he merely frowns and silently jerks his door open with an almost unnoticeable wince.

Ignis swoops in with a roll of his eyes and carefully helps Noctis into the car.

"I'm fine, Iggy, lay off," Prompto hears him spout as he obediently moves under Ignis's care.

"You're clearly not," Ignis retorts as he leans back and shuts the door. "Especially if you're being so careless as to let your emotions take precedence over your own health."

Prompto can't see the look Ignis is giving him, but Noctis seems properly ruffled by it. He huffs and turns away from him, crossing his arms over his chest as Gladio climbs in from the other side.

"He's right, you know," Gladio says, and Prompto does catch the glare Noctis throws at him as he rounds the car and gets in himself.

The first ten miles of the trip, they ride in stony silence. Prompto feels like they've been going for hours when Ignis rolls into the nearest gas station on their first stop.

Noctis gets a lot of his frustration out with Gladio during his stretches, and if Gladio's angrier for it, he’s not showing it. Prompto trails after Ignis when he goes into the market to stock up their supplies with whatever he's rationed out for them to use. He waffles over a pack of Ebony--this market's last one on the shelves, then mutters something under his breath and grabs it. They end up getting fewer potions than what Ignis usually buys, but Prompto opts not to point it out.

It gets easier after that.

When they all pile back into the car the atmosphere is completely different from before. Noctis is much calmer now that he's had another stretching session with Gladio, and Ignis can't hide his contentment when he pops the top on a can of Ebony before they continue on.

They don't end up stopping every 10 miles. Prompto thinks it's more like every half hour or so. Ignis is driving a bit faster than his usual speed, but he's also taking the nicer, less bumpy roads as well. If Noctis weren't snuffling into Gladio's shoulder for over half the trip so far, he'd probably complain about it.

It's the same song and dance the whole way: ride for a while, stop, stretch, continue on. They talk a bit every time they stop, and surprisingly, Noctis doesn't complain about the set up at all. He's mildly grumpy from being uncomfortable, but otherwise, he's his old self.

They pull up in front of the entrance to Cape Caem a little before sunset. They’ve gone a bit longer this time, so it's no surprise that Noctis is half asleep when they arrive.

"How you wanna do this, Princess?" Gladio says once he's rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

Prompto's already taking a couple of shots of the lighthouse against the backdrop of the setting sun when Noctis turns to him. "Prom can help me."

Gladio gives him a half skeptical look. "Not that I doubt that he's capable, but it's a long way uphill just to get to the house."

"I'm aware of that," he grouses. His gaze softens as he focuses back on Prompto again and Prompto sees his eyes settle on his camera. "Uh, unless you're not up for it?" he amends sheepishly.

"Dude, I am always up for helping my best friend," Prompto says as he slips his camera into his shoulder bag. "That's not even a question!"

He catches the way Noctis rolls his eyes and the knowing smirk Ignis is sporting and ignores them both. They can all tell what Noctis's trying to do, and he's touched by it! Really, he is! But...

"Gladio is right, you know," he says as he puts an arm around him. "He's better equipped to help you than me. It's gonna take us forever using me as a crutch."

"It'll be fine," Noctis says, in that quiet way that tells what he really means: _I trust you._

Prompto holds his gaze for a long moment, then shakes it off, smiles, and starts them off in the direction of the house.

It does take them longer to get up the hill. Ignis goes on ahead, taking some of the heavier things from Gladio and carrying them up to the house. He's probably going to get a head start on dinner, knowing him. Prompto’s thoughts trail back to a few nights before and he wonders if Ignis feels just as helpless in moments like these.

Gladio silently keeps pace with them as they go. Noctis doesn't say much, or anything at all really. The only sounds he's making are the soft grunts that slip through every other step or two. Gladio steps in about halfway to adjust Prompto's arm in a way that must make it easier for Noctis, because he's not making much noise anymore. And yeah, he vaguely recognizes the hold as one of the ones Gladio was using while they were at the Galdin. He gives him a passing smile in thanks and they continue on up the path.

By the time they make it to the house, Noctis is breathing heavily. He pulls away from him to grab the porch rail and tilts his head toward the horizon. "You should get a few more now that the sun's almost down."

And Prompto wants to, he does. Of all the places he's taken pictures throughout Eos, this place has some of his most favorite views. The sun is barely peeking over the horizon now--it's got to be going straight into the ocean, the puffy clouds starting to turn orangey-pink. It's setting up to be a gorgeous sunset, he knows it will be. He'd be lying if he said his fingers weren't itching to set up for the next half hour and just lock the ever-changing view into pictures he can look at whenever he wants. But...while the scene is perfect, for him it's more about having the perfect setting for shots with subjects in them. Nature shots look so...empty when there's no one to stand in it. And it's not like he doesn't have those shots from the Galdin that he took only a few days ago. That Noctis also urged him to take. And yeah, Prompto knows what his best friend is up to.

So, instead of doing what Noctis suggests, he turns away from the beautiful sky, looks back at his friend and says, "Nah, I'm good. There'll be other sunsets."

"Come on," Noctis says. He squeezes the rail and eases himself down to sit on the steps. "I can tell how much you want to. I'll keep you company while you shoot."

Gladio sighs from his side. "You should be getting inside to rest," he says. "We're going through your stretches again after dinner."

Noctis huffs a bit but waves him off, not taking his eyes off of Prompto. "Seriously. Even I can tell it's gonna be a pretty one, Prom. Sure, there'll be other sunsets, but there will never be another one like this. You can't pass this up."

Prompto throws a hand into his hair and glances back up at the sky. If he doesn't start taking some pictures soon, it'll be too late. "But--"

"But nothing," Noctis says, cutting him off. He pushes himself back to his feet as quickly as he can manage (which isn't very). "I'll come model for you, will that help?" He catches the way Gladio glares at him and quickly adds, "I'll model while _sitting_ somewhere. You can choose."

Prompto stares at him for a full minute before he tips his head back and laughs. “Dude, really, like, thank you, but you don’t have to overdo it for my sake. I remember what it was like just wrangling you into letting me take those shots of you on that fishing dock.”

“I would have done it anyway, it was the time of day I had a problem with. If you remember,” he says, poking him pointedly.

Prompto laughs again, swaying away from the offending poke. “Come on, Noct, you hate pictures of yourself!”

“That’s never stopped you before,” he says, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. “Can I sit with you at least? I can just keep you company.”

He does end up taking several shots of Noctis in front of the colorful backdrop, and a good handful of selfies of them both that he’ll have to go through later. Sometime after the colors have fully faded to the blue-gray dark of night, he finally says what’s on his mind.

“You didn’t really want to sit out here and pose for pictures with your back all outta whack like that.” He lays it out as a statement of fact, not a question.

Noctis huffs and runs a hand through his hair. “No. I wanted--" he says and blows out a breath. His eyes shift up to Prompto's and a frown creases his brow. "I wanted to apologize, for all this."

Prompto stares at him for a long moment and then lets out a huff of amusement. "You wanted to apologize for being laid up and hurt when it wasn't even your fault?"

Something flashes acrosses his face and his frown deepens a little. "Well, it probably was something I did to make it flare up again."

Instead of chastising him about how it's _not_ his fault if his body just randomly turns against him from time to time, Prompto asks something Ignis didn't tell him a couple nights ago.

"When was the last time it happened?" His voice comes out soft--too quiet, and he thinks for a moment that Noctis didn't hear him. But then Noctis leans back a little and squints, his gaze going far away for a moment.

"It was--I was still in school," he says. "When I was...seventeen, I think? Because I had to take off a week from work."

Prompto frowns, trying to think back. There were several times over the years where Noctis would disappear from school for a few days, but he attended most of his high school years. Finally, he asks, "When was this? Like, I know when you were seventeen, but I don't remember you taking off school for it. Where was I?"

Noctis almost...winces at the question. He meets his gaze briefly and his eyes are full of guilt before he looks away. "It was over the summer. I think I told you I had the flu or something.

"I just...didn't want you to see me like that. I don't like for anyone to." He takes a breath and casts a glance over where Gladio's still standing, leaning against the porch rail with his phone in hand. "Ignis and Gladio were there for most of my recovery. They saw all the flare-ups. When it became obvious that it could happen at any time, my father had them both trained in how to take care of me if my usual nursemaids weren't around."

Prompto can see how much he hates this, hates even explaining his most permanent weakness. Noct is hunching more into himself, and he's taken a heavy interest in the ground at their feet. He realizes all at once that this is why Gladio and Ignis have been so gentle with him throughout this whole process. It really does get to him and they're trying their best to make him comfortable and not focus too much on his own weaknesses or what they're doing for him.

He feels the need to say something, to cheer up his best friend like he usually does, but he _wants_ to have this conversation, even if it's hard. A part of him thinks that Noctis wants it, too. So he boosts himself up on a barrel beside him and waits.

Noctis finally lets out a stuttered huff of air that's almost a laugh as he casts his gaze upward. It's dark enough that some of the stars are starting to become visible, and though they can't see it from here, Prompto can already tell that the moon is up.

"Isn't it ironic?" Noctis says, and it brings Prompto's focus back to him. He's smiling unamusedly up at the sky as he continues on. "That it's me who's meant to save Eos from the scourge when I have a bit of that same curse in me?" He drops his eyes back to Prompto and his expression is open and somber in a way that Prompto hasn't seen much of in the years he's known him.

"I've never seen you as weak," he tells him because it's true and he feels that maybe Noctis needs to hear it right now. "Actually I think it takes someone with a hella amount of willpower to be able to get back up again after something like that. I can't imagine what it must have been like for you, going through all of that when you were still just a kid."

And this is weird, cause they've always just skirted around the topic. Any time they'd ever gotten too close to the subject, Noctis would clam up and Prompto would always fix it by cheerily steering them toward something lighter. This territory was untrodden and he wasn't quite sure how to go about it.

Prompto elbows him gently and laughs. "Cursed or not, you can still wipe the floor with me--probably even like this."

That gauges a reaction out of Noctis. He playfully shoves him back and Prompto can hear the real smile in his voice when he says primly, "Yeah, all I'd have to do it throw an ice potion at you, then I could just warp behind a tree and wait it out."

"Rude," he says plaintively, then concedes a small, "But effective," with a shrug.

Movement catches his eye and he sees Gladio walking toward them through the grass. "Ignis says the food's almost ready," he says when he reaches them. He looks at Noctis and then Prompto as if to ask, _'Need more time?'_

Prompto shoots a glance at his best friend and finds him looking back. That's all it takes and then Noctis is pushing himself up off of the stack of crates he'd been sitting on. "Alright, alright, we'll head in."

To Prompto's surprise, he doesn't complain when Gladio helps him this time, and the smile he gives him as Prompto steps up on his other side is nothing but welcoming.

~*~*~

The following days show an incredible improvement in Noctis, both physically and mentally. Prompto brings up questions when he thinks of them (largely when Noctis is running through his stretches--now mostly under his own power), and instead of skirting around the subject, he tells him what works best for him. Ignis (with a lot of Gladio's own input) explains what they did to get rid of the numbness in his lower extremities, and though it still doesn't make a whole lot of sense to him, he understands that it works. (Even if the whole process sucks for Noctis.)

They're sitting down for breakfast on the second morning--a mildly disgruntled Noctis coming in from outside with Gladio--when Ignis says, "I daresay I think you're back to your old self, Noct."

"Can concur," Gladio agrees flatly, clapping him none too gently on the shoulder. It's something Prompto knows he wouldn't have dared try a few days ago, but Noctis doesn't even flinch at it. "His normal attitude is back."

Noctis glares petulantly as he sits and takes the plate Ignis hands him. "I still don't know why we had to get up at _sunrise_ to go for a jog."

Gladio shrugs. "It's the best time of the day for it. Plus it's cooler out than midday."

"I'm still showering before we leave," Noctis says in reply.

Gladio rolls his eyes dramatically and throws a grape at him. "Just don't use up all the hot water, Princess."

~*~*~

It's not until he and Noctis are packing their things into the trunk of the Regalia that he finally gets the words out. Ignis is still back at the house making them snacks for the road, while Gladio finishes up his shower since Noctis had his first (and definitely _did not_ use up the hot water...according to him). It's their first real moment alone since they'd talked the first night there.

So once they get everything in the trunk and Noctis slams it shut, Prompto reaches out and bumps a fist into his shoulder. Noctis turns and his lips pull up just slightly as he looks at him and leans against the car. Prompto does the same and throws his hands behind his head as if he were lying on the ground instead of leaning vertically.

Noctis side-eyes him after a long moment of quiet. "What is it?" he finally says imploringly and Prompto hates the tiny note of worry that's there.

He gives a one-shoulder shrug. It disrupts his hands where he's got them locked behind his head and he drops them to his sides as he casts his eyes to the ground, suddenly nervous about what he wants to say.

"I..." he tells the dirt and then stops. No, he needs to do this right. So he pushes himself off of the car and looks up at Noctis. Noctis just looks at him in open curiosity while he waits. "I just wanted to say thanks," he says in one breath. "For telling me. You didn't have to, and I know it bothers you a lot, but--"

He halts when Noctis holds up a hand.

"That's what's eating you?" he sputters out on a half laugh. He blows the rest out on a sigh and throws a hand in his hair as he looks at him seriously. "I was worried you were gonna say it bothered you."

"What!?" Prompto squeaks, mildly affronted.

"I don't know," Noctis says before he can go on a tirade of the million reasons that it would never bother him. Now it's Noctis who's looking away from him, digging a toe of his boot into the dirt and looking wholly focused on it. "You were right, before. It's..." He takes a breath and sighs and it must give him whatever it is he needs to look at him again. "Everyone just _knew_ in the Citadel. What happened. And sometimes I felt like people were just waiting on me to have an "episode", while others thought I was nothing but a spoiled prince who couldn't handle an injury."

Prompto blinks at him. "They said that?"

"Well, no, not in so many words--nobles wouldn't do that. Especially not in the Citadel where word could get back to my father."

Prompto chews on the inside of his lip. Noctis's words only further his thoughts on how terrible the political world can be. Being nothing but outwardly respectful in royal company, but spouting negative gossip as soon as their backs have turned. It's what castles were like in the history books they read in school. Prompto just...thought that the world had moved past that by now.

"Guess that's why you wanted to move out so bad, huh?" Prompto says, and Noctis laughs.

"Well, that _was_ part of it, but I didn't tell my father that. He wanted me to have a life outside of being a royal, that's largely what ended up convincing him to let me move into my apartment." 

Prompto's heard all of this before, knows all of this already, but he nods anyway and gives him a fond smile. There's a warmth in Noctis's eyes that he only gets when he mentions his father. It's been a while since Prompto's seen it, with everything that's happened, but it's nice.

He's almost sad when it's gone only a moment later.

"But," he starts, and his voice has gone much quieter now. "I've always been insecure about it. It's not an easy thought, knowing that you could move wrong and end up with paralyzing pain shooting through you and not being able to fix it on your own.

"I know you're not--them, Prom," he says after a moment. "But you made it easier to forget just how broken I am. I guess I just didn't want you to see that part."

"Dude," Prompto says. "I don't care who or what you are 'supposed to be', you're my best friend. And you're _not_ broken," he adds, poking him hard in the side. "I care about you, dude, like all of you, not just the pretty Royalty side that everyone else wants to see." He waits a beat, then shrugs. "Not to mention that I am like, the _last_ person to be casting any judgment on anyone."

There’s a noise from the hill behind them, and then Noctis’s gaze is shifting over his shoulder.

"Ahh good," Ignis's voice carries from up the hill a bit and they both turn to watch him and Gladio descend toward them. "You've saved us the trouble of searching for you," he says. When he reaches them, he hands Noctis a bag of what is probably their lunch and casts a glance between the two of them. "Need to go back up for anything?"

"Nope," Noctis answers for them. He snags the bag out of Ignis's grip, then steps around him and vaults himself into the back seat.

"Much more of that, Princess," Gladio says coming around the car to pull open his door like a grown adult. "And we'll be here another week."

"Yeah, yeah," Noctis says, and Prompto can _hear_ the eyeroll. "Like you didn't enjoy having some time off out here."

Prompto's in the car and glancing back in time to see Gladio shoving at Noctis's shoulder. "Time off? I faintly remember having to spend most of my time tending to His Majesty's physical therapy. Crazy. _Must_ have been imagining things..."

The way he smiles when he pulls out whatever book in the series he's on now says Noctis is right though, and if Prompto was worried that Gladio had tripped on a mine, Noctis's answering snort is enough to prove that he hadn't.

And that's that. Things are back to normal. 

And when Prompto hears the soft "Thanks, guys" from the back seat after Ignis has pulled out onto the road, he turns a soft smile his way and says, "So...wanna play King's Knight?"

~fin~


End file.
